I guess this is the right place for this. It may not seem like fan fiction but it shoud make more sense later on. It is set on another continent and quite a bit earlier than TZH though. Maybe fanfiction is the wrong word? Anyway, this is the very opening. Updates will come. Critisism is of course welcome. I haven't written anything in a long time.

Rain? Civilisations would rise and fall but it would always rain. And now it was raining as though the heavens themselves were trying to wash the spilt blood from the streets. Sean looked up towards the clouds, his brown T-shirt and jeans already soaked through. He ran his hands through the long brown hair which was one of the few things he had pride in, his hands rested behind his head for a moment.

"We have to find her.." he pleaded, the words almost drowned out by the storm. His brother, stood a few metres away looked over to him. A blood slick axe was gripped in his right hand and a Browning High Power pistol was in the left. A black wool skull cap was clenched over his head and a loose leather jacket hung from his shoulders. He was definitely the better prepared of the two.

"You know that's suicide. These damn zombies are everywhere and what do you have? A fucking longbow.. Why do you even have that thing?"

"I never knew this would happen. It's all I have.. It's better than nothing." He turned and pointed at a lifeless corpse further down the road. Two arrow shafts protruded from the front of it's chest. The thing wasn't human any more, it's teeth were stained with blood and the open eyelids revealed cloudy orbs. It's kind would be the death of them, Sean knew it. Sam wouldn't admit it but he felt it somewhere deep inside too. A virus was the cause, or so they were told by the media. The very media that played it off as little more than a new strain of the flu. They were wrong, oh so wrong. Humanity had paid the price.

"I won't even ask about the guitar... But we need to get away from the city, if we head in deeper we'll get surrounded by more of these.. These zombies. You'd risk your life for her?" asked Sam somewhat stupidly.

"I'd risk everything for her! And you know that. You just don't understand what this is like. I'm not leaving without her."

"And what if she's dead? Could you stand finding her as one of these!"

"She isn't dead! I know she isn't. If you won't come then I'll go alone, you can run off to the country by yourself," the desperation was growing within him. He couldn't stand being away from her. She'd pulled him from the brink of despair and mental ruin when no one else could.

"Fine, but we're going to the pharmacy first. We should get a car too," he let out half of a laugh and took a step backwards. In the road before them lay an old ford flipped on it's roof with half a dozen zombies crushed beneath it, "There's nothing left for us here, let's get moving."

The clouds began to fade for now, the setting sun showing itself at least. It'd be night in a few hours and they'd be near the heart of over 2 million zombies. It was no fun being a pessimist when things turned out worse than you predicted. The streets were clogged with bodies. Most were human, unsuspecting members of the public who'd walked blindly towards a grisly end.

It didn't take them long to reach the pharmacy, a twenty minute walk would be nothing under normal circumstances. As it was they had to take numerous 'scenic' routes to avoid the thicker pockets of undead, they'd managed to make it this far without any major confrontation. It wasn't a large building, the windows were smashed but at least there weren't any zombies around.

"You should check the cars," said Sean as they crossed a small car-park in front of the drug store, "I'll be OK in there." Sam nodded and got to work examining the vehicles. A speedy red roadster caught his attention but it didn't seem very practical.

The door opened easily enough, it wasn't locked or secured at all. Sean lifted the guitar off of his back by the strap before gripping it in both of his hands. He tried to move quietly through the store, carefully avoiding collapsed displays and the odd body. A familiar package caught his eye, painkillers. He grabbed a half dozen cartons and stuffed them into pockets. Something move in the distance. His grip on the improvised weapon tightened. A few tense moment passed, although is felt like an eternity. Sean felt his heart beat so hard he was sure even the dead would be able to hear it. Something moved again and he spun around. The source of the noise was clear before him now. A machete gripped in one hand with the other stretched out.

"Gimme the damn drugs kid," the words were desperate and fast, it's clear that their owner was an addict.

His heart skipped a beat as the stranger spoke, "I.. I don't know what you're talking about."

"I saw you take them man.. I need those. Give them to me."

"I don't have your bloody drugs god-damnit!" Of course he was scared, Sean wasn't a fighter like the others. Sam had been in the army, he had no problems with putting someone down. He couldn't even stand to kill the zombies, a part of him thought maybe they had a cure. It still felt like murder.

The dark skinned man approached him now, his limited patience had clearly run out. He patted the machete against his hand before bringing it forward and swinging it through the air. Instinct took over and the neck of his guitar met the blade. The polished wood fractured and split. Another attack and the blade bit another chunk out of the black strat. One more strike came and the neck was cleaved in two. Sean dodged to the side and lashed out with his foot, hitting the back of the madman's knee. The man buckled and fell to the floor. Sean wasted no time bringing the broken neck over his head. It'd be no use as a blunt weapon but the strings.. Well they were still potentially deadly. He pulled on the neck and body with each hand. Metal wires dug into the assailants neck. Sean held it and held it until the addict stopped convulsing. The guitar fell to the ground with a thud and he took a step back. Sean's hand quickly buried his face as he closed his eyes. He stood there for what seemed like an eternity. Trying to find out what had just happened.. This wasn't 'him'. This new world had turned him into something horrible..

Only killers will survive

...

"Where did you get the machete?" quizzed Sam from the bonnet of an old, faded blue hatchback.

"I found it, along with painkillers" he replied coldly, "Is this it?"

"Well it wasn't locked, so no alarm. Of course if you want to alert the whole neighbour.."

He was cut off rudely by the almost deafening roar of a motorcycle. It flew past them heading in the direction they could just come. The rider's head was concealed with a helmet and even if they could see, it'd just be a blur.

"We should get moving," he continued after scratching his head for a moment. Sean just nodded and found his way to the passenger seat.

"What do you think the army are doing?" Sean asked idly as Sam turned another corner, a dozen or so undead were in the street ahead of them.

"Probably holed up.. Or trying to evacuate what they have left."

"What about the airbase? They could be evacuating from there," he jumped a little as a zombie skull was crushed beneath the car's wheels. The rest of the small horde were closing in now, they were too slow to catch them up but the ones ahead. Well they were blocking the exit.

"We'll have to get out. Kill these so we can drive through," explained Daniel. It seemed a better prospect than damaging the car by ploughing through them.

"Are you sure there's no way around?"

"Stop being such a pussy! Do you want to find Ashley or not?" he retorted, the words sounded more harsh than he had meant. But his brother's reluctance to fight was beginning to annoy him.

"Fine... Fine." He opened the door and nocked an arrow whilst Sam exited and readied his pistol, "3..2.." a loud bang interrupted him. Followed by a few more. Sam had already dropped three of the zombies before Sean had even fired a single arrow. He pulled back on the bowstring and targeted one of the wounded zombies and released his grip. The arrow flew through the air with a *swish* and hit the rotting creature in the chest. It didn't even slow down, it took 3 more shots before the thing finally relented and fell to the ground.

"Heh, one to me!"

"I just killed five you tard. Nothing beats British engineering."

"That gun isn't British..."

"Go fuck yourself! ... Behind you!"

Sean froze for a moment. His hand slowly reached the machete he'd secured by sticking it between his belt and jeans. The longbow fell to the ground and a deathly groaning grew ever louder. Spinning around, he brought the machete in high. Face to face with one of the undead now, he'd never been this close. He could smell it. He could see the exposed skeleton and torn organs. The weapon collided with it's neck, sending a gout of blood through the air and some of it splattered against his face. A solid kick freed the weapon from it's spinal cord and sent the beast to the ground with a thud. It was dead. Another one approached now. It had a single arm and wore the torn black and white uniform of a police officer. Complete with hat and stab-proof vest. Sean gripped the machete tighter now, the blade was wet with blood. He readied himself, as soon as the undead officer was close enough he lashed out with an overhead swing. Hitting the thing through the top of it's skull. Its groaning stopped and the vacant, dead expression encouraged him to remove the bladed weapon from its diseased brains. The thing was truly jammed in there, he pulled and pulled on it even standing on the corpse to try and get some leverage.

He didn't notice the final zombie that was now running towards him. Its blood-slick hands clawed out as the thing swiped at him from the side. His arm was grazed by the attack, some blood being drawn. Sean turned to face the thing only to take a step back when he saw the gruesome twisted face. There was only one eye left in it's socket, the other hung from its nerves. A splayed ribcage was on full display. The survivor took one step too far and tripped on the zombie he'd just killed.

"Oh shit.." The words escaped from his mouth as he scrambled backwards, the thing was reaching down to him now. It gripped his T-shit like an inhuman vice and use its second hand to lift him up. He hung in the air before it now, a futile swing only seemed to make the thing angrier and it threw him to the ground. He hit the pavement hard and coughed painfully as he gripped his chest.

Is killing me quickly too good for you?

The zombie approached as he lay on the floor, it was quicker than the others. And for some reason unknown to him it wasn't intent with killing him with a bite to the jugular. The Berserker stood over him, pinning him in place by sitting on his chest before unleashing a torrent of fast, hard punches. The first hit his nose, then his eye, he was sure one knocked a tooth out. It wasn't stopping.. The thing was enraged. Sean was utterly helpless as the thing tried to cave his skull in. The attack only ended when another gunshot rung out and blood sprayed from the Berserker head, landing all over Sean. Sam approached and pushed the twitching thing off of him, unloading an extra round into its head for good measure.

"What the hell was that?" Sam asked as the older brother lifted up his sibling. Sean simply spat out blood and limped towards the car, his face cut and surely going to be bruised.

"I don't know.. It was Berserk." he replied painfully as he slumped into a seat and shut the car door. The road ahead was clear for now, Sam had taken out the rest while he was busy fighting for his life. Sam lingered for a moment, he searched the dead policeman and took a baton, can of CS-spray and even the stab-proof vest. He passed the baton to Sean, noticing his machete still embedded in a skull.

I suggest always re-reading your entire post before you actually post it. I find that no matter how good a writer is, you'll be surprised at the errors found just by giving it a once over. It makes for a much better read. Other than that, thank you for taking the time to write up a little something for us to pass the time with.